milliways_bar | Entries tagged with heero yuy

lightningbaron6.livejournal.com

It's been a while since Zechs has ended up in the bar, but then, his life has been anything but calm or the past year or so. There have been too many things for him to do that require every scrap of his attention, to suffer any sort of distraction or interruption. There's a price to pay, he's learned, for having so many roles that he has to fulfill simultaneously. Law officer, administrator, prince, spy, rule-breaker. Traitor, to his own country and the entire world, for the secrets he keeps.

But that's nothing new.

The past three or four months, though, have been as close to heaven as he suspects a blood-stained soldier like him can get. And his latest role is far more pleasant than the multitude of others have been lately, even if it's been a publicity nightmare keeping the media - and thus the world at large - in the dark as to the reason for his sudden and prolonged good mood.

Now he's getting his first chance in a long time to relax in the bar for a while, and is obviously enjoying it. A good vintage, a book, a sofa, and a look on his face like a cat in a creamery. And for once, not a scrap of official paperwork in sight.

3nanashi

The door opens, and closes, on a scene of trailers at night. (Some are lit up, and several aren't. The last show of the night is over, clean-up's done, and most of the circus folk are heading to bed.)

Looks like Trowa is heading to Milliways instead.

This might or might not be intentional, but he doesn't look remotely surprised. (Trowa never does.) He just makes his way towards the bar. One hand's in his pocket; the other is holding his half-mask loosely.

[OOC: Open until it falls off the page, because I'm around all weekend, for a change!]

3nanashi

Trowa's on a couch. With coffee, and no expression. (And ridiculous hair.)

So: business as usual.

maxwellsdemon02

Duo is jogging around the lake. It makes for some rather mind bending exercise, considering the portion of ocean that goes off into it's own horizon, and the mountains at a variable distance, and the stars that may or may not be in the correct constellations tonight. Not to mention the cool air and leaves crackling underfoot.

But he's ignoring all that. With wireless earbuds and the tiny player they belong to strapped to one arm, he can tune everything else out and concentrate on running. If you're close enough you could probably hear some of the music fondly dubbed as 'space metal' by its fans. Duo is a pretty good runner, too. Strong form, light on his feet. He's a sprinter, though. Not a distance runner.

Trying to pace yourself while you're by yourself is hard.

3nanashi

Trowa has a table. (Not for keeps.)

And improbable hair.

And no expression.

So: business as usual!

maxwellsdemon02

[OOM: Millitimed to, um. Some time ago. After Duo, being his normal self again, comes to the bar and finds out what has happened during his absence. He receives a note or two.

Then, he goes home.]

peacecrafting.livejournal.com

Some days, you can only handle so many closed-door meetings with diplomats trying very hard to pretend they can keep a civil tongue in their skull before the whole enterprise drives you straight for the nearest form of solace available; in Vice Minister Relena Darlian's experience, that solace is the interior of a tea shop and the promise of a sizable pot of expertly made tea in the very near future, and so, the moment she finishes hearing from the Norwegian ambassador on the matter of immigration standards loosening on L4, she puts in a call to her secretary to hold all further appointments till tomorrow and makes a not particularly daring break for it.

On the way, she stops and puts in a call to Dorothy, too, on the same lines. Just to make sure nobody tries anything silly ... like, say, attempting to break into the offices just to speak with her.

She was really sorry the ambassador who'd tried that last year hadn't been expecting Relena to know how to use a taser. She really was. (It was a lucky shot, but she never told him that. Better for them not to know, in her opinion.)

She gestures to her security to wait outside the entrance to the shop, once they've inspected the interior to their satisfaction, then opens the door and steps inside -

- a place that is most definitely not a tea shop of any kind.

She stifles her immediate impulse - she would not, in fact, put it past Duo Maxwell to impulsively disappear just to redecorate her favorite tea shop in the whole Kingdom into a bar, but it seemed unlikely that she'd have failed to notice the redecoration - and shuts the door with a raised eyebrow. "Well," she says, the tone of her voice only slightly icing over as she speaks, "would anyone here mind telling me where my tea shop went?"

She's never been very good at showing the appropriate level of fear in her responses to arational behavior on the part of the universe before, so why start now?

[tinytags: relena darlian]

maxwellsdemon02

Duo's at a table, one arm over the back of his chair, legs stretched out under the table. Set on the tabletop is a palm sized computer. Every now and then he taps at the small keyboard sticking out of the side, but most of his concentration is on the projection hovering above it.

It seems to be a magnification of the cross-section of a tiny piece of circuitry. The projection responds when Duo reaches up to 'touch' certain portions of it, rotating the image, highlighting sections, or scrolling up a new section of text.

A string of numbers and symbols flickers constantly on the bottom of the projection.

He looks mildly healthier than he did last time he was downstairs.

maxwellsdemon02

Duo is sitting slouched in a booth. He is currently occupied by glaring at a bowl of soup and some crackers as if they have personally offended him. Both appear untouched.

He's looking a little green around the gills, not to mention tired. And grouchy. Can't forget the grouchy.

By all means, drop by. Odds are fairly good that he won't move fast enough to bite anyone's head off.

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

Ah, the bar. Heero has not been in this place for awhile. Life has been busy, and perhaps the door has respected that, and his incessant urge to have no necessary distractions. On the same token, it also seems to recognize when he does need a distraction, and places him right in here.

Perhaps he should be at home - despite the fact that time passes slower outside that door, it does still pass, and there's worries behind that door. Duo's late home from a mission, and it's these times that Heero regrets having put himself outside of the Preventer loop. He only gets to guess about what might have gone wrong until such a time that Duo does get home again.

He'd prefer to be there when Duo gets home, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to stick around here for just a few minutes. There's a chance of running into him here too, after all - and other people he might like to see.

Look at that, bar. In his absence, Heero's learned to allow himself the occasional stress relief.

Not one to hover around the door, he heads for a table, but still keeps his gaze focused right on the door.

hungryampersand.livejournal.com

The door opens on a heavenly temple filled with divine radiance. After a few moments, Famine teleports to just inside the door and carefully closes it behind itself. When it turns around, though, it stops and frowns. "This isn't Njezjin's!" the Rider says, confused and aggravated.

It examines the room closely, ready to attack if necessary. (For some reason, teleporting away and trying for its intended destination hasn't occured to it yet.)

please read this post before tagging, or ping ampersandand on aim!

Current Mood: CONF AGG
Current Location: not Njezjin's

snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com

[OOC: Not one, not two, but three! Tag one, tag all, it's up to you. The mun's going to be around for a couple hours, at least.]

There is a Roy in the bar this evening. Well, not in the bar. He's currently out back, unwinding from a long and stressful day with a bit of target practise.

Given that this is Roy, of course, "target practise" means that there are flames flying rather than bullets, and no small number of explosions. He's not by any means unopen to conversation, however, so feel free to bother away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Actually inside the bar are a pair of Preventers, settled into comfortable chairs near the fireplace. Sally has a cup of hot cocoa and a three-inch thick stack of dossiers that she's reviewing, potential new recruits for her divisions. Zechs has a cup of coffee spiked with Grand Marnier, and his own stack of paperwork consisting of performance reviews for his inferior grade officers.

Both look sick to death of their tasks, and the plate of oven-fresh cookies on the table between them certainly invites company. Tag one or both, each looks like they could use a break.

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

One former soldier, in the bar.

He is sitting at a table, his eyes narrowed at the rest of the bar, giving everything and everyone in it a Look.

He has not moved for quite some time. Nor has he spoken.

Right now, he seems to just exist for a Look.

~~Wonder what bug crawled up his butt?~~

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

There is a Heero Yuy in the bar.

To be more accurate, there is a grumpy Heero Yuy in the bar. He's sitting at a table, casting a glare off at some innocent wall. He's tearing up a napkin, and has already destroyed half of it into very small pieces.

There seems to be no good apparent reason for his mood. Wonder what bit his butt?

maxwellsdemon02

[OOM: There is a note stuck on the refrigerator...]

maxwellsdemon02

[OOM: What could have been a pleasant morning (and make-out session) deteriorates into a rather nasty argument.]

maxwellsdemon02

[OOM: Christmas with Heero.

and

Solo agent.

This has been 'OOMs I Should Have Posted Two Weeks Ago', the evening edition.]

lightningbaron6.livejournal.com

In the Sanq Kingdom, the dawning of the New Year has come and gone. Most people are winding down and going to bed, while some of the more determined are still partying on.

The prince of the aforementioned Kingdom is doing neither. He is draped almost bonelessly over one of the couches before a fireplace, attired in a pair of tight, low-cut black leather pants over a pair of black leather kneeboots, and a tight, dark red t-shirt. You do not show up to a celebration in jeans and a sweater. A few stray pieces of colourful metallic confetti ("Happy New Year!" and "A.C. 199!") are caught in his hair and a colourful paper crown adorned with glitter, feather garland and the words "To A Fine 199" sitting on a cushion beside him.

He's not drunk. He'd been about as plastered as he's ever been in his life earlier, enough to get him to "party hearty," but that hadn't taken much - he's a lightweight, and it's since moved on. Zechs suspects that Sally's act of dragging him to a New Years party is going to become a tradition. But at least he enjoyed himself this year, which is a definitely improvement over the last time.

No, Zechs is decidedly sober and not even hungover. He's just flat-out tired, and it's kind of hard to blame him for that.

Poke him anyway!

3nanashi

Trowa lets himself in, tea in hand, and moves gracefully to a table; without appearing to, he surveys the room.

maxwellsdemon02

[OOM: Yesterday.]

Duo enters the bar with a list in hand, and a pencil behind one ear. He holds the door open in a distracted manner, long enough for Heero to follow through after him.

"What the heck do you get A- the guy who has everything, and B- the former Queen of the world for Christmas?"

Out of Duo's line of sight, Heero rolls his eyes slightly and pushes Duo towards a table where they both sit. "I'm totally serious, man," Duo continues. "This may turn into an international incident. It wouldn't feel like Christmas without one."

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

[OOM: Heero turns in his resignation.]

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

[OOM: A day after, life moves on, but certainly not unchanged.]

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

There is one Heero Yuy in the bar.

He is at the bar itself, ordering a cup of coffee. Now, this is not out of the ordinary at all - and would really not be worth an entrance post. But no, that is not the point of our story.

The point of the story is what's in that coffee. While he has no idea, it has an additive involving such a thing known as band candy. He's not the type to eat candy bars, after all, so. The Bar, she must be a bit crafty to get this one.

While he's drank some, it hasn't started to effect him yet. It will, however, in five.. four... three..

Feel free to approach him when it starts.